


At An Arm's Length

by unreadable0



Series: I'll find you in every universe... [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Kissing, Lust at First Sight, M/M, badass!Kurapika, badass!Kuroro, detective!Kurapika, like where did the plot go, lots of making out, mafialeader!Kuroro, protagonist vs. antagonist, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unreadable0/pseuds/unreadable0
Summary: A series of one-shots masquerading as a plot.“W-what is it that you want?” Kurapika kicked himself for his stutter. The mafia man just leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. The detective gave an involuntary shiver.“You.”The blond’s eyes widened.OR:Kurapika wanted answers. Kuroro wanted... well, he wanted him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> from an anon request on tumblr. inspired by a prompt from the-modern-typewriter on tumblr.

“What do you mean he  _broke out_?” Kurapika hissed into the phone, worrying his bottom lip. “How did the hell did he break out of a maximum security cell?” He wanted to curse, to yell and throw things, but he knew that that would be childish. God, his team had hunted that damn mafia lord for weeks, and even then they had barely been able to detain him. Now they would have to do it again. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming behind his eyes. He had lost two men to the monster already. Who knew how many more would have to be sacrificed the next time? 

A small part of him was tempted to cut his losses and let the man go, but Lucilfer was the only lead they had on the case. Twenty-two dead women in the past nine days, bodies mangled and contorted when they found them. No, they hadn’t even been able to find their bodies. All that had been left behind were the tools used in the grisly murders and a series of photographs. 

Polaroids, freshly printed. One for every victim. 

Kurapika’s stomach rolled at the thought, and he steeled himself. He had to track down the culprit, had to put an end to the ever growing chain of deaths. He had to protect Neon. 

“We’re not sure, boss—“

“Well then find out,” he ordered impatiently. “Was anyone hurt?” When they had first apprehended him, Lucilfer had managed to shoot two before they had gotten the gun from him. Kurapika frowned. It had been odd—after killing the two men, the mafia head had almost handed his gun to Mizaistorm, becoming strangely complacent. Perhaps he had been mocking them?

Basho sighed on the other side. “One of Lucilfer’s men clipped Cheadle on the shoulder, but she’d okay.”

“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Any ideas where he might have gone?”

“None, but we’re sending a security detail over—“

Kurapika heard a click, then. The cold metal of a gun brushed the back of his head, and an arm snaked around his waist before he could turn and fight. His heartbeat dropped.  _No._

“Give me the phone,” commanded a smooth voice directly into his ear. 

Even though his mind screamed at him to disobey, the blond detective shakily handed the device over. He just had to distract his assailant for a few moments. His eyes darted to his own gun, on a table a couple feet away.  _If only..._

The lip of the gun pressed a little harder. “I wouldn’t think about it, if I were you,” Lucilfer advised, laughing darkly. 

 _“Kurapika? What’s going on? Kurapika?”_ Basho said frantically into the phone. 

Lucilfer smiled, raising the electronic to his mouth. “Relax, he’s perfectly safe...”

A muffled yell was heard from the speaker. 

“... for now,” he finished threateningly. “I’ll make this very clear for you: you take even one step into this building, and I put a bullet into blondie’s head. Got it?”

Kurapika’s mind raced. He couldn’t just let the criminal get away. Not when he had answers. Mustering up all his strength, he stepped on Lucilfer’s foot, snapping his head back so that he heard the satisfying crack of cartilage. Snatching the phone from the man’s hand he stumbled away, reaching for his gun as he spoke. 

“You get men here, now,” he instructed.

“But—“

“To hell with whatever happens to me,” Kurapika said fiercely. “You get in here, and you get answers.”

“I—“

“That’s an order, damn it!” A hand grabbed his throat, yanking him bodily against another chest. His fingers closed around the familiar coolness of his pistol. Kurapika struggled, elbowing Lucilfer in the gut. A shot rang out, bullet grazing his head, and he dropped the phone. 

A gun nestled into the soft skin of his throat, and the same baritone voice spoke calmly into his ear. “Don’t move.”

Kurapika moved anyway. 

He expected the gun to go off, and for a bullet to find its way into his jugular. The mafia lord only gave a stifled curse, though, and he felt himself being shoved against a wall, two arms caging him in. 

A gun released its safety, but this time it was Kurapika’s own. Holding the weapon against the other’s neck, he glared up defiantly, eyes meeting with Lucilfer’s for the first time. How had the other's nose not been broken? Hell, he still looked completely unruffled. Was this guy even human?

The criminal had the nerve to let out a chuckle. “You won’t kill me. Not when I have the information you need,” he taunted, pushing away the gun. Kurapika hated that he was right. 

“I suspect you won’t, either. You had multiple opportunities to do so, and yet you didn’t,” he shot back. Lucilfer grinned wickedly, lowering his gun and pressing closer. 

“W-what is it that you want?” The detective kicked himself for his stutter. The mafia man just leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear. Kurapika gave an involuntary shiver. 

“You.”

The blond’s eyes widened. 

“You have questions, and I have answers,” Lucilfer continued, moving down to press a light kiss to his neck. 

"How can I trust you? You've killed two of my men already."

"Please," Kuroro said dismissively, scoffing, "they were informants. You should be thanking me that I got rid of them." Kurapika gaped. No, it couldn't be... 

"Anyway, my offer of information is waiting..." Kuroro sang. 

Kurapika’s brow furrowed. “Not for free, though. You want something in return. Name it and I’ll give it to you.”  _Within reason, that is._

Another laugh, then. “I thought I made it obvious, but I guess I’ll have to repeat myself.” Kurapika’s pulse jumped as a pair of warm lips ghosted over his throat. “I want  _you_.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“You heard me.” Teeth scraped against his skin before being replaced with warm pressure. Kurapika bit back a moan.  _Damn hormones._ “You have three questions. Fire away.”

Kurapika forced himself to think rationally, something that was getting increasingly difficult with the lips working their way up to his jaw and the cool fingers tracing up his sides. He could work with this. If this was all that the mafia leader wanted in return... well, as long as he didn’t do anything  _too_ inappropriate...

Another kiss landed dangerously low on his chest, and he let out a small gasp.  _Okay. That was inappropriate._

“Why do they choose the targets that they do?” he asked, voice coming out surprisingly even. 

The other man didn’t pause in his ministrations, something that Kurapika had very mixed feelings about. “That’s a terrible question, love. You should have noticed the pattern by now.” Kurapika bristled at the condescending tone, and Lucilfer laughed, planting a placating kiss to his collarbone. Wait, since when had his shirt been opened? “They’re all young. Beautiful. Vulnerable. He lures them in from the streets to play. If they don’t meet his tastes, which none ever have, then he kills them.” Hands ran reverently across the blond’s stomach, tracing intricate patterns on the olive skin. “Simple.”

“Sadistic, more like,” Kurapika corrected, breath hitching as a particularly sharp bite landed on the soft curve of his neck. “All of his murders have been focused in a twenty mile radius. A local, I’m a assuming?” At least, that was what his team had been thinking. 

“You couldn’t be farther from the truth.” Kuroro continued his series of open-mouthed kisses, relishing the small sounds that escaped the blond. Oh, he really was so delicious. “He’s a drifter. Yorknew City just caught his eye.” Drawing back, the criminal admired his work, causing Kurapika to flush hotly under his heavy stare. 

“One more question.”

Kurapika hesitated. Would he be able to give an answer? It was risky, wasting his last question on this. But he had to try. “I need a name.”

A grin, all teeth. “That answer costs more than a kiss, sweetheart.” Kurapika burned with irritation and something else at the pet name. What more could he give?  _Oh,_ right. His brain almost overheated at the implication.  _As if I would give it to him!_

He was about to snap back with a scathing reply when the sound of heavy footsteps sounded up the stairs. Kuroro (when had he started referring to him by his first name?) cursed, before impulsively pulling the shorter man against him. 

Kurapika let out a yelp in surprise before a pair of lips came crashing down on his own. Kuroro devoured his mouth hungrily, fire and passion evident behind his movements. Despite himself, the blond felt himself growing weak as the other deepened the kiss, knees buckling. The man tasted of coffee and hard liquor and something dark and sweet—it was maddening. He grabbed onto the man’s lapels for support, and he felt one arm encircle his waist, holding him up. The other hand reached up to cup his cheek, surprisingly gentle. 

When Kuroro finally pulled away, Kurapika felt like he’d been drugged. He was in a daze, blood pounding in his ears as he met the other’s lust-filled gaze. 

Kuroro looked like he wanted to kiss him again, but a banging was heard on the door, loud and jarring. Sighing, the mafia man released him reluctantly, pressing a piece of paper into Kurapika’s hand and saying, 

“ _Until next time, Mr. Kurta.”_

Pressing a lingering kiss to the blond’s cheek, he slipped out of an open window just as the door was kicked down. 

Agents swarmed the room and his name was shouted in numerous voices, but Kurapika paid them no attention, too wrapped up in what had just happened. 

He remembered the business card in his hand, and he flipped it over, eyes scanning over a single name. 

_Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou._

Well, at least he had a name now. 


	2. Keep your enemies closer...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroro breaks in, again. Cue heated make-out sessions and lots of threatening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I kind of forgot about this one for a little bit, but I decided to add a second installment because I'm currently struggling with both of my main projects. Whoops. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this super quick thing!

Kurapika sighed heavily. It had been two weeks since the whole Lucilfer incident, and yet his department had had little success in catching the elusive Hui Guo Rou serial killer. The murders were becoming a little more spaced out, at least, so he guessed that the culprit was being more careful now that he had the full attention of the Yorknew police. 

The detective unlocked the door to his apartment, which had just been completely restored to its previous cleanliness after many consolation funds from the department. Stumbling inside, he distantly set a reminder for himself to brew a pot of coffee before he passed out. 

He hadn't given himself a chance to sleep much in the past month, too focused on the case. Leorio always got onto him about working too much, but the doctor could do little more than leave passive-aggressive messages on his answering machine now.

Kurapika had just hung up his coat when he noticed that something was off. He was certain that he hadn't left that window open before he had left that morning... 

He felt a dip in the floorboards behind him, and he tensed immediately. _God, can I not have_ one  _night of peace?_ Hand reaching for his pistol, he felt a pair of arms slip around his waist, fingers playing with the buttons of his blazer. Kurapika's grip tightened around his weapon. 

"So hostile," the intruder chastised, lips inches from his ear. Kurapika relaxed slightly as he recognized the other's voice. A hand plucked the gun from his grasp and tossed it aside. 

"Lucilfer," he greeted coolly, as if he wasn't currently trapped in the other's embrace. 

A dark laugh sounded, and Kuroro spun him around. " _Kurapika,"_ he mimicked, "you're here later than I expected. By my knowledge, your shift ended three hours ago."

The blond scoffed. "I'm trying to solve a string of _homicides_ ," he stressed. "You can't expect me to just leave the first chance I can while there's still a murderer out snatching girls off the streets."

"Well, you won't be solving anything if you pass out," the mafia leader pointed out, taking in the dark bruises under the other's eyes.  _Right, coffee._

" _If._ " Kurapika extricated himself from Kuroro's hold and made his way to the kitchen. 

 _"When,"_ Kuroro muttered to himself, following him.  Turning on the coffee maker, Kurapika crossed his arms over his chest, turning to face the other man. 

"Why are you here, anyway?" he asked, making no attempt to move back when Kuroro swiftly closed the distance between them. 

The dark-haired man shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood and I thought I might stop by to visit my favorite detective," he told him casually, eyes holding a kind of intensity that made sent a chill down Kurapika's spine. The detective hid his unease and lifted a disinterested brow. 

"When you say 'visit' I think you actually mean 'break in'," Kurapika corrected, nodding towards the half-opened window in the living room. "Seriously, why can't you just go through the door like a normal person?"

"It was locked." Kurapika rolled his eyes. 

"It's a simple lock mechanism. Even Leorio got it open when he was blackout drunk," he said, laughing quietly to himself at the memory. His friend had thrown a party to celebrate him passing medical school and had gotten so inebriated that he had woken Kurapika up trying to get into his apartment while spewing oddly seductive promises. Leorio had been absolutely mortified at the whole event afterwards, but Kurapika had just dismissed it quickly, all too aware of the other's affections. 

Not that it would ever work out, anyway, seeing that the doctor was currently halfway around the world providing care to people in third-world countries. 

"Leorio?" Kuroro repeated, voice going comically suspicious. 

Kurapika cursed himself for his slip up. Great. He really did  _not_ want to get Leorio involved in whatever sloppy mafia business that Kuroro had his hand in. "It's not important," he said firmly. 

"Not important?" The mafia man leaned in closer, effectively caging Kurapika in. 

"Are you just going to repeat everything I s—"

"Good." Then a pair of lips came crashing down onto his own, hungry and impatient and everything that Kuroro was. All snarky retorts and remarks died in Kurapika's mind, because Kuroro's hands had  _crept under his shirt_ and his tired mind could  _not_ handle the sensory overload. Cold digits ran over his heated skin and Kurapika didn't even try to stop the desperate gasp that slipped past his mouth. Kuroro swallowed the sound, pulling away with a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to the detective's neck. 

Trailing open-mouthed kisses down to his collarbone, Kuroro pressed even closer, and  _oh, that was new._ Kurapika blushed as he tried to put some space between the both of them, but the other man was having none of that.Arms hooked under his thighs, and Kurapika found himself hefted onto the countertop with ease. He didn't get any chance to protest at his new position, though, as Kuroro dragged him down for another kiss, hot and strangely possessive. 

Hands traveled downwards to grip his hips, and Kurapika gave an involuntary moan as he was dragged against the other bodily. Kuroro chuckled at the sound, fingers deftly moving to undo the blond's belt.  _So this is happening?_ A part of him protested at the fact that he was just minutes away from being taken by a mafia leader in his own damn kitchen, but then Kuroro rolled his hips into him and that part was promptly silenced. 

Kuroro had almost gotten the buckle undone when the coffee maker beeped, jarring Kurapika back to his senses. Kurapika swore that the other man had almost _growled_ as he pushed him away and quickly hopped off of the counter. Immediately, Kuroro tried to pull the blond back, but Kurapika ducked under his arms and retrieved the pot. 

Pouring a cup for himself, Kurapika sighed. "You've got to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Kuroro asked innocently, voice still thick with arousal. He slid into Kurapika's personal space again. 

Kurapika smacked a wandering hand a little harder than necessary. " _That,_ " he snapped. "It's horribly irresponsible for me to get involved with you right now..." Kuroro opened his mouth as if to say something, but the blond cut him off, pushing him away. "...or any time, that is." The other man closed his mouth, but smirked. 

"You didn't seem to care so much about 'responsibility' a moment ago," the mafia leader teased, only to have a gun pointed lazily into his direction. Kurapika had started carrying two on his person ever since the previous break in incident. 

"Mm-hm," Kurapika acquiesced, taking a long sip from his mug, "I'd be happy to show you just how much  _responsibility_ I'm willing to take if you don't watch yourself." Kuroro laughed, putting his hands up in mock-surrender.

"Always so defensive, darling."

The detective just unclicked the safety in response and drained his coffee. He kept his weapon trained on the other as he set down his drink and grabbed his files. Once he had made it to his desk, a good enough distance away from the man, he lowered the gun, stowing it away in his blazer. 

Tucking away his weapon, he shot a glance at the other man. "The show's over, asshole. You can leave now." To his annoyance, Kuroro only came closer, until he was standing right behind Kurapika's chair. Eyes flicking up to meet Kuroro's, Kurapika scowled. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, voice dangerously calm. Kuroro smiled. 

"Watching you work," he replied cheerily. "It's fascinating just how much evidence you've missed."

Kurapika shot him an unimpressed look. "Well then either help me, or get the fuck out."

"Is that an invitation?" Kurapika's eye twitched. 

"Fuck you."

The other man just grinned, lips ghosting the shell of Kurapika's ear. "With pleasure." Kurapika elbowed him.

"Get out of my house." Kuroro gave a dramatic, drawn-out sigh. 

"Fine, fine. I'll help you," he conceded, "but only if I can have you once this is over."

"Sure. Whatever," Kurapika agreed hurriedly, not really pausing to fully process the other's words. 

Kuroro smiled, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on the blond's head. Kurapika had half the mind to shake him off, but he decided against it. Purely because he needed information. Of course. 

"So?" the detective prompted, trying not to let the other's close proximity affect him. 

"Well, first of all..."

* * *

 The first rays of sunlight were streaming through the living room window when Kurapika woke up. Sitting up groggily, he realized that he must have fallen asleep at his desk the night before. He slapped his forehead. He had fallen asleep and left himself completely vulnerable to one of the most dangerous men in all of Yorknew. Truly, a rookie move. Sighing, he checked the time. He was going to be late if he didn't get dressed now. 

He was about to stand up when a piece of paper tucked under a case file caught his eye. Picking it up, he examined the neat handwriting. 

_Midway Park, 11pm. Come alone and don't be late._

_\- KL_

_P.S. Don't think I've forgotten about our deal, darling._

Frowning, he turned the slip over, but it was blank on the back.  _Midway Park, 11pm._ Was it some sort of code? No, probably not. Kuroro was much too prideful to use codes to obscure his motives. Perhaps he was arranging a meeting with an informant? Kurapika pinched the bridge of his nose. Going anywhere alone with the mafia leader would be extremely foolish and unsafe, but he needed to solve the case as soon as possible. 

The body count was still rising, and he couldn't help but think of Neon. As annoying as his friend was at times, he really did care for her. And she fit the profile of all the other victims perfectly. Young, beautiful, and naive. Yes, he had to go, consequences and risks be damned. 

He was just stepping out the door when he remembered the last part of the note. What deal was Kuroro talking about?" Kurapika strained to remember. He hadn't agreed to anything last night, had he?

_"I'll help you, but only if I can have you once this is over."_

Well, shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so the plot totally disappeared except for the hasty thing at the end. But hey! Did this fic ever actually have an actual plot? Anyway, thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you think!
> 
> lots of love,  
> unreadable0 :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and please let me know what you think! should I continue this?


End file.
